


The (Unwilling) Conversation Navigator

by GayChaton



Series: Emails to Lie In [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: (kind of), (kinda), 4+1, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Everybody Lives, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Organized Crime, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-03 15:27:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10970097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayChaton/pseuds/GayChaton
Summary: Really, all of the problems actually root back to one guy not killing himself when he tried to.Well. Jared's starting to realize that his internal (and admittedly external) speech patterns were turning more crude and insensitive by the day.AKAThe four times Jared handled a conversation on his own and the one time he didn't have to.





	1. Connor

Jared tapped his foot on the tiled floor.

Hospitals were never fun.

He glanced to the open window, full of sunlight that fell on neither of the occupants in the room. Instead, it harshly illuminated a whiteboard and a fern, leaving two teenage boys in reflected, secondhand light.

Jared didn't like this, he was wasting the afternoon of a Saturday that could be spent upon much more productive activities, but instead he was here for Evan because somehow Evan managed to drag a handful of people into this clusterfuck of a lie that was inexplicably working so far. So much for keeping cool, he supposed. Is ranting inside your own head a stress reliever?

His foot bounced a few more times before he shifted slightly in his seat.

"So you took Evan's weird kink letter and now we're all fucked," he said, breaking the silence with no finesse.

Connor's gaze slowly turned to him and bore a hole in his head.

Jared scoffed, not looking at Connor. "There's five of us fucked at the moment, all of it stems from you. If you hadn't stolen Evan's letter, if you would just clear things up yourself and talk to someone other than Evan."

The unspoken 'if you hadn't attempted suicide' lay unspoken, but not unheard. Jared could say a thousand things bluntly but he had a few personal morals to keep in check.

"So here's the thing, Punk Rocker. The scam we're running on your behalf won't get more than five sentences if we don't figure out who the hell you are. And yeah, apparently your family didn't know the answer to that either, but they'd figure it out if Evan writes up some sunshine-lollipops rendition of Connor. So I'm here to figure that out, I guess."

Jared turned his head to see Connor. He looked like he got hit by a train, honestly. Dark bags under his eyes, greasy-and-even-longer-than-before hair, the kind of hospital gown that you could feel the scratchy surface of from a kilometer away. Connor's face, however, was calculating.

"What, trying to get a read on me?"

No response.

"Well, I'm the cool guy who's saving your ass from the kindness of my heart."

"Tell me what you have," a voice croaked. Jared's eyebrows shot up, he hadn't actually expected Connor to talk. From what he'd heard, the dude had refused to talk to anyone but Hansen, except saying "god damn it" when he first woke up.

"Your secret email account is 'anywhereelsewouldbebetter@gmail' and the password is your last name and the number ten after it, all lowercase. So far we've written two email exchanges, but we've changed the archive numbers to report one hundred seventy-four exchanges in the history."

Connor gave no verbal response, but motioned with his hand for Jared to continue.

"In what we had, Evan wrote about you wanting to and getting better."

A groan.

Jared smirked. "Karma, bitch. Now, here's the thing, I was a genius and backdated that to a pretty recent date, so we can play it off as you comforting Evan if we need. But that means we'd have to show a believable progression of you being friends with him; asshole-ish at first, gradually moving to 'less of a cunt' with familiarity."

There was a certain quiet that fell over the room when Jared stopped talking. And Jared was glad the door was closed. Just awkward enough that it would be more so if there was more white noise.

Jared pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced over the email account he'd fabricated. "How long ago should the oldest one be?"

"This summer."

"Work with me, stupid," Jared sighed. "I know you want to maintain your loner vibe, but you don't write a hundred and a half emails to someone you met like, five months ago."

"Could."

Jared scoffed. "Try again, asshole."

"… Sophomore year, late spring."

Jared checked his story and nodded, making a note in another application. "Now we're getting somewhere."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm the only one Evan could ask to do it, and he's paying me to do it," Jared mumbled, checking over the emails and cross referencing them. "Evan said you went to the orchard. Apples or some shit. Any legit reason you might have done that?"

"Good place to get high," Connor offered.

"Not a chance. Evan would never let us write that."

"What do you want me to say?"

"You gonna understand, Con. There's no proof anywhere before this month that Connor Murphy even knew of Evan Hansen's existence."

"So?"

Jared grunted in frustration and rolled his eyes. "So, you better saddle up for a long ride of method acting because you and Evan better get really close real fast if this is going to work."

No response, but Connor looked into the distance as if he didn't care about anything.

"Or. You could just tell your parents the truth and everything goes back to normal in a few weeks."

Connor bristled. "No."

Jared stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets with a sarcastic smirk. "Oh I know you don't want that. 'Normal' is 'depressed-with-no-hope-for-improvement' with you. I get that whatever fucked up manipulating you think you're using on yourself is a tool to get some change in your life, but there's a price, man.

"And no, it's not fucking cash, though I'd like some compensation. It's about working with us, cause I know and Evan knows and Zoe's on our ass, about to figure out and Alana Beck is involved and with her lack of a sense of privacy she'll be in on it soon to. So when this ends, if it ends well, it'll be with the five of us having to at least pretend to know and care about each other. And that's best case!

"You gotta strap in and deal with my ass for the next God-knows-how-long so that I can work my tech magic, keep you from killing Evan, and save the day."

Connor was quiet. He looked almost fragile on the bed, knees folded close to his chest as he leaned against the plastic headboard of the bed.

If Jared stopped avoiding it for long, he would be able to see the raw area of Connor's neck where he had rope burn. He didn't stop avoiding it.  
"I'm not interested in playing nice, Connor."

That finally made Connor look him in the eye.

Jared smirked at the feat. "You don't have many options here. So get over yourself and help."

"You sound like quite the abusive person," Connor said airily.

Jared bristled, but didn't rise to the bait. "I'm trying to save my own ass. I won't let you drag me down."

"So you need me more than I need you."

"… yes," Jared was surprised at how soft it came out, but he continued staring at Connor.

Apparently Connor either had some sense of fucked-up pity that Jared didn't even want or he finally got tired of stalling. "I actually did visit the orchard when I was allowed to drive. When did you say you dated those emails?"

"June second, this year."

"Before I went to rehab for the summer I think. I used to go on highways to speed. Maybe I took Evan there because it was on the way back from the interstate."

"Perfect," Jared mumbled to himself, jotting it down in his phone, but then he paused. He hadn't expected Connor to actually help that much.

"What?" Connor asked. His voice took on a defensive tone. "The fuck was wrong with it?"

Jared stayed silent for half a moment, scanning over Connor. "You want to be a part of the con."

"I've always been a good enough liar."

With an airy puff of laughter, Jared pushed up his glasses. "Okay, Screamo. I'll run it over with Evan and see what he says. Until then, you be the sad kid who wants to see his buddy more often. Consider it your application."

Connor grunted, and Jared marched out of the room.

Interesting.


	2. Evan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jared is super Gay and He Knows That but His Defense Mechanism is Harsh Denial When It Comes to His Crushes, the novel.

"He _what_?" Evan asked, looking like he's two inches from the edge of losing it.

Jared bit back a sigh and folded his arms across his chest. "He wants in. He'll work with us behind the scenes."

"Nonono he can't," Evan insisted. A nervous habit of his popped up again; his hands smoothed over his shirt again and again until Jared wanted to snap ' _it's fucking smooth_!' Still, Evan made strangled noises while he paced back and forth across the otherwise silent kitchen. "He can't just want in, we had a plan."

"A shitty plan," Jared pointed out, frowning. "Listen I don't get it. What's the hold up for you?"

"We already had things set in motion. You and-and I and the emails were all we needed!"

Though the thought of ' _you and I_ ' set something in Jared loose and light, he suppressed it. He didn't know what the ever-loving fuck that was about, but it was entirely unnecessary. "Hate to break it to you, Acorn, but that wasn't gonna go far anyway when Connor Murphy was always going to be a pivotal part of the equation anyway."

"Another variable that could go wrong!"

"Or another tool to use!" Jared insisted. "Wait, that sounded fucked up—"

"Jared, fix this—"

"Okay okay, relax for a second!"

Evan finally turned directly to Jared and diverted eye contact almost instantly afterwards. "Okay. Okay run me through this?"

"Through wh—"

" _Everything_ , Jared!"

"Jesus, chill," Jared yelped. "Fine, so. Connor Murphy: attempted and failed suicide. Not actually your friend, but seemingly okay with going along with it."

"Right."

"Evan Hansen: presumed to be the only hope for recovery, and only friend. Known to the Murphy family at this point. Alana Beck: supporter of activism in the school, closely following Connor Murphy's case. Publically joined your suicide prevention project online. Likely to discover the truth sooner or later."

Evan made a groaning sound as he ran a hand over his forehead.

"Zoe Murphy: hovering, paranoid, could find out and break the deal if we let her find out on her own."

"And you?"

Jared rolled his eyes. "Jared Kleinman: awesome dude. What more is there?"

"Nono, do that, that analysis thing on yourself. Where do you fit in?"

"Jared Kleinman: admitting guilt to his accomplice for some reason by saying that he's the one fabricating emails as proof."

Evan did not seem amused. "How are we going to pull this off?"

"Well we have to make sure Alana doesn't find out in a way that worsens your relationship with her. You're walking on thin ice buddy, and she'd love to drag you down if you can't play it out the right way."

"And what is the right way."

Jared considered for a moment. "You make it seem like you're doing a service with what we're doing. Say, like, 'I'm helping Connor recover the right way this time, so that this never happens again'. And that you're trying to spread a better message to the world using the catalyst or whatever."

For a second Evan lit up. "That _is_  what we're doing!"

"No. No, Evan, we're lying to a stoner's parents so that he can run away when he turns eighteen and kill himself on his own terms."

Evan's face registered horror and regret instantly. "No!"

"Calm down! Okay maybe a slight exaggeration, but basically that's it."

"I thought we could actually help Connor."

"Connor Murphy?!" Jared gave a laugh that could be considered hysterical. "There's no fucking way. Dude is _literally_ mentally ill. Doesn't take much to see the dude's depressed as fuck and probably has some BPD up there too."

"Well– what about therapy?"

Jared forced a sarcastic grin and put his hands on his hips. "Oh my, how could I have forgotten about that? Wait a second, what was it that you said Larry Murphy did with each therapist?"

Evan grit his teeth and began picking at his shirt. "Pulled Connor out before diagnosis."

"Bummer," Jared hissed. "It's like absolutely every aspect of his home life is tearing him apart!"

"Stop! Just, stop."

Jared waited in aggressive silence for Evan to collect himself.

"We're going to try to help Connor, okay?"

"You don't make decisions for me," Jared mumbled without any kick.

"The family isn't evil, I know them."

"… Well you sure do want to be Connor's real friend, don't you?"

Evan's cheeks tinged a darker red.

Jared's jaw dropped. "You want to hook up with him? _Really_  Evan?!  _What_ , do you have a Murphy kink?!"

"Nono it's not- it's not that I just- just—"

"You can stop," Jared interrupted, channelling his annoyance and subtle dissapointment into a commanding voice. "Don't want to hear it."

"I'm going to try to help him. Genuinely. I want— …I don't want anyone to feel like that's the only way out."

Jared opened his mouth but words died before they could even become clear in his mind. Instead, he considered The Plan, and what would need revising. "Maybe. Maybe, if we can get the parents at the right time, and you suggest your therapist give them a sob story about how you needed time."

"Time for a proper diagnosis."

Jared let a smirk creep onto his lips as Evan finally connected the dots. "Exactly. Obviously he's fucked up, but if we can figure a way to actually treat him. Oh, your therapist is good right?"

"My— well um. Yeah I gue— wait how did you kn—"

"Box in your room rattles during storms. Med hiding place if I've ever seen one. In any case we have to figure out what could stop us from doing this. How… Beck."

"Beck?"

"Alana Beck. She's going to find out any day. Zoe will find out even faster."

"Okay?" Evan asked, sounding nervous again instantly.

"If this is the actual plan, we should appeal to Alana to eliminate suspicion of ulterior motives and shit. Now, since you can't work up the nerves to interrupt her, and she's stuck up in her own right, I'm going to meet with her tomorrow after school and tell her. You need to tell me how much to tell her."

"Well she probably shouldn't know about the note actually being from me," Evan said. He paused.

"Well yeah, she'd throw a fit about the lack of morality in dishonesty," Jared prompted. "What else?"

"Actually, can you just do this?"

Jared snorted. "You're the mastermind."

"This isn't a crime!"

"It kinda is, really. A murder," Jared insisted. "Of _trust_!"

"Jared!"

Jared rolled his eyes at the squak. "Yeah. Well you'e saying I should say what feels right?"

"Yes," Evan breathed. "Please."

Jared considered a second. "Putting her on a need-to-know basis would only make her angry and try to find out more, giving her the lowdown runs the risk of turning her afainst us. Giving her the most just parts would make her angry if she found out the real truth. Giving her a mix of good and bad parts spawns suspicion that we're not sharing the full story."

"Do what you think, Jared."

"Zoe."

Evan's attention was once again completely drawn. " _What_!?"

"We need to tell her before she works it out on her own too."

"How would she work it out?"

"I don't know, maybe because our shit is flimsy at best and nonexistent at worst. Maybe because out of all things, she knows Connor?"

Evan visibly paled. "Is she going to turn on us?"

Jared thought for a moment. "Well the defense we have against her is an argument of 'you didn't know who he was with people he liked'. Which, is kinda shitty considering evidence points to him being an abusive piece of shit in every witnessed situation."

"What can we even do? I- I mean—"

"Evan. Dude," Jared said, holding up a placating hand and finally taking the reins of the conversation instead of leaving it up for grabs. "You kind of have to run this show. So you need to decide where you want to take it, what story you want to go with, and what we need to do in public to convince people that's the case. Or rather, I can do that last one if you do the first two."

Evan paused, running his hands over his shirt again. "Okay, okay. We're going to actually help Connor, but the public has to think we were friends before so that they don't think I'm just, just some psycho trying to mess with stuff."

Jared hummed.

"We need to get a message out to the world too. Use this as— as a catalyst for awareness and hope."

"The Connor Project, right. You really want to do that?"

"What's wrong with it?" Evan asked apprehensively.

"You wrote it at two A.M. On a thursday morning because you figured out Connor has depression."

"You think it's a bad idea?"

"It's an idea. And the message is something everyone should know, but it puts you on a spotlight and raises the stakes."

"If it helps even one person, it's worth it."

Jared scanned Evan's face. He'd seldom seen Evan so sure and confident in his words, and it was only ever directed at Jared and only ever when talking about something he passionately believed. Something about that farmiliarity made Jared feel compelled to give Evan something to relax about. A reason to not have to stutter. "I'll generate a website and rip a basic theme from my library, you can text me a list of subpages you want."

"Awesome," Evan said.

"'Kay. It's late, if I don't sneak back home, my mom's gonna report me kidnapped."

Without another word, Jared turned in his heel, lifted his backpack from the ground and found his way out the front door of Evan's house.

He tried not to think about why he wished he was more directly involved.


	3. ALANA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Jared cares a lot more about things than he'd like to admit, and Alana isn't stupid or rude.

When Jared got to school, he was in a fairly bad mood. He'd stayed up fairly late running corrections on the coding for the Connor Project, and had a few other things to work out.

Like Alana, who was reviewing what looked like a trigonometry textbook.

"Beck!" he called from a distance, making sure she noticed him quite a bit before he actually reached a comfortable distance for conversation.

She looked up immediately, and furrowed her eyebrows as Jared approached. "Hello, Jared," she said cautiously.

"Hey, so I need to talk to you pretty soon, work out some stuff," Jared explained briefly and vaguely as possible. Let her fill in the gaps, he thought to himself. "Are you free after school today?"

"Today?"

Jared faked nonchalance, "I suppose if today doesn't work it doesn't really matter—"

"No today is fine," she insisted sharply. "Where should we meet? Should a teacher be present?"

Jared's brows furrowed a fraction. "No. I'm not going to like, murder you or anything stupid, but I'd like to talk in private."

"May I suggest the music room? They don't meet for band on Mondays any more."

"Perfect," Jared nodded. "Right after school?"

"Can you give me five minutes? Need to stop by the Spanish room to hand over extra credit assignments."

Jared resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead took a few steps back. "Sure. See you then, Alana."

"Have a good day."

It was a few class periods into the day before Jared had a class overlap with her. He actually saw Evan before that.

Evan was as good as Evan ever was, a worrying mess with too many things on his mind. Jared offhandedly made a remark about a homework assignment, which caused Evan to spiral off into a worry because he couldn't remember which folder he had slid the worksheet into. Not a sweat was broken by Jared, who'd watched Evan finish it two days ago. Jared finished his introduction paragraph for his social studies research essay before Evan finally found the slip of paper in the "finished homework" folder, which Evan had sworn he hadn't put it in.

Jared looked up carefully for a second once the paper was retrieved. It was a typical type of display for Evan but Jared had thought…

He shook it off and hissed an insult unto Evan's system absentmindedly.

Maybe Jared had thought Evan wasn't as hung up on the whole "Connor" thing as he expected, but a stronger state of mind asserted that maybe freaking out like normal was a fucked up sort of comfort thing for Evan, whatever masochistic coping mechanism it may be. For a moment, Jared wishes he had a different chosen-but-not-admittedly best friend who understood when he was just making jokes. Instead, he stayed silent and waited for decide if he needed help with his own essay or not.

At the end of the day, Evan was still going to visit the hospital, and Jared was still going to sneak in with them, despite his lack of invitation.

Anatomy with Alana was a breeze, considering the classwork itself was fill-in-the-blank notes from a powerpoint.

Instead, Jared looked into the distance carefully, managing to track Alana's motions out of the corner of his eye. She kept looking at him, sneaking glances.

What was she so worried about? How much had she actually figured out on her own, and more importantly, was it enough that she believed her trust had been betrayed? If she thought they thought she was untrustworthy, a natural reaction would be to violently prove how much she could disclose. At least, that's what Jared might do in the situation. He wondered if he should set up a bribe and if that would keep Alana as quiet as it could keep many people.

Jared swore under his breath as the powerpoint slide clicked away before he wrote in the notes. He pulled his neighbor's paper towards him and copied the sloppy handwriting. Some kid that transferred to the school during sophomore year; Jared wouldn't have done it if the kid cared or had any backbone.

Instead, Jared trudged through the school day. He had time to sit down on the teacher's desk in the band room before Alana walked in.

"So?" Alana asks. "I came here like you asked, would you please—"

"Connor and Evan weren't friends," Jared said, loud enough to cut her off.

She fell silent. Whether it was from shock of offense at being interruption was relatively unimportant, but she waited for him to continue.

"Not before Connor made an attempt. But Evan felt bad, because there was something Evan wrote and printed that Connor thought was an attack. So Evan saw it as a second chance. An opportunity to help Con recover and maybe reach out to the internet and help others who feel alone."

"Really?"

"Yes," Jared confirmed. "How much did you already know?"

"I'd suspected something was up a long time ago. That things didn't match up all that well. Connor seemed so friendly to Evan in that email but he didn't get better when he said he would," Alana said. She was so full of bullshit.

Jared scoffed. "Your hunch was based on Connor not following through with a promise?"

Alana's face remained motionless.

"Whatevs. Listen, we're writing the e-mails. We want to know if you'll rat us out to the authorities, considering that'd shut down any chance of using the Connor Project to help others."

That seemed to elicit a response. "That's what you want?"

"No," Jared said. "I want this to be over and for things to go back to normal so that I don't have to stay up until five A.M. perfecting the coding of emails, okay? But Evan has it stuck in his mind that he's going to help people."

"You want to help Evan?"

"Yes."

"Why? Because you like Evan?"

"Yes," Jared said, begrudgingly. This was drifting off course, and he did not need emotions of all things in his life.

"What does Connor think of this trick?"

Jared almost pressed his lips together, but hid his hesitation. "Connor wants his family to stop fucking with his brain. Which, I mean, I probably understand the most. He wants an excuse to leave the house, and currently Evan is his free pass to freedom."

Alana glanced down at the floor briefly. "What of the Connor Project?"

"What it says on the tin," Jared said. "Suicide awareness. We're not stealing money out of this or anything, Evan is a legit good person."

"And you?"

"Covering my own footprints. If Evan gets caught and denounced, I get caught and face lawsuits."

"Why would you face lawsuits but not Evan?"

"Because despite how shitty they are to Connor, all they want is a functional son and they're letting themselves believe that they can adopt Evan. Were things to go batshit, they wouldn't turn on Evan. They'd look for a scapegoat, and it's not going to be their actual son, it's going to be the irrelevant accomplice."

"Is there…" Alana paused and sighed. "What is it you want me to do?"

"Don't tattle," Jared deadpanned. "And, if you're still okay with it, keep running the Connor Project. I don't know, make Connor a better person while you're at it, you're the type that can figure out anything."

"People aren't things to figure out, Jared! They're human beings."

"Connor is struggling," Jared insisted. "Sticking with facts, anyone can see that he's run out of options in life. If you can find out a way to help him stabilize, that'd be fantastic."

"I can't force him to be my friend."

Jared resisted the urge to laugh aloud at the way those words sounded from her lips. Because honestly, hearing Alana Beck say that was priceless. "Whatever. Now you know what's up, and why. Just, tell me you won't rat us out."

"I want to help people," Alana said.

Jared stood up and walked in front of Alana, hovering a few feet away. "Tell me you won't."

She paused for a moment. "I won't."

"Good," Jared nodded, stepping back. "Connor Project?"

"I'm still in, I guess."

Jared took a deep breath and broke eye contact, looking across the room instead. "Okay. Okay. I'll text you the login info when I get home."

"Login?"

"For the Connor Project website. You're an admin, you need a special login." Jared began heading for the door. "If you want to actually meet Connor, I can arrange that."

He didn't respond to her thanks as he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for comments and I'm so glad you guys seem to be enjoying it so far too! Idc if this is being read twenty years after this is finished or halfway through the release but I will love you forever if you leave a comment.


	4. ZOE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Jared is tired and stressed and totally an asshole but Zoe is fine anyway.

Jared rang the way-too-fancy door bell and waited, barely resisting the urge to scroll through his phone during the brief break.

The mahogany door swung open with a heave, revealing a middle aged woman.

"Mrs. Murphy, I'm here on strictly business. I go to the same school as Zoe, we have a group project for Biology," he said quickly. And more importantly, with no hesitation or stalling, because if he'd done that she might have firuged out he was lying.  _Honestly,_ he thought to himself,  _Evan should take notes._

Mrs. Murphy looked a bit stunned. "Oh, please come in. Is there anything I can get for you two?"

"It's alright, I don't think this will take too long," Jared said, stepping into the house. He saw the lined up row of three pairs of shoes next to a coat rack and decisively did _not_  take his off.

"If you're sure. Her room is down the hall to the left, the room across from the stairs. Zoe! Your school friend is here."

Jared nodded and walked down the hall on the padded beige carpeting that probably felt as expensive as it looked. He glanced at the staircase and across from it, before knocking on the door.

"Yeah yeah one sec, really you should text me before you come over Ala—"

The door was pulled open and Zoe's mood switched instantly.

"Jared? What the fuck are you doing in my house?!"

"Chill, dude," Jared insisted, crossing his arms. "Needed to talk."

Zoe stared at him.

"You gonna invite me in?"

"What are you, like, a vampire?" Zoe scoffed, but stepped back, waving her arm to her room.

Jared walked past her, scanning the room. White walls, painted blue ceilign with glow-in-the-dark stars taped to the walls an ceiling. Posters hung here and there, mostly animals and artwork. He looked back at Zoe once she closed the door. "So your brother."

"Figures," she grumbled. "That's all anyone wants to talk about these days."

"I want to talk about you," Jared said. "Just so happens that your brother is part of the equation. Just like Mommy and Daddy, right?"

Zoe pulled a disgusted face. "Please never refer to them as that again."

"Anyway. Your brother is kinda shitty. Here's the thing." Jared shrugged and tilted his head with a smirk. "Evan Hansen is not."

"What are you saying?" Zoe asked.

Jared shook his head. "Okay, he might be terrible at like, half the aspects of social interactions, but Evan is a good person. He has his heart set on making Connor better, whatever that means. And long story short, I'm technically and morally obligated to help them do that. Don't even try to tell me you weren't having your suspicions about them."

"What makes you say that?"

"You're not a master eavesdropper, sweet cheeks," Jared grinned. "I've seen you listening to Evan's phone calls with Connor."

Zoe cursed under her breath.

"Look. I know that you know there's a million gaps in between the Connor in the suicide note and the Connor you knew. What I'm trying to convince you of is that we have it under control."

"Under control? What the hell is under control?"

"Connor."

Zoe stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"We have a plan, stop worrying. Connor agrees with it, Evan agrees with it, and in the end of the plan nobody dies and he doesn't have to deal with abuse again, okay?"

"What-what do you mean, abuse?"

Jared rolled his eyes. "It doesn't take a professional to figure out Connor isn't neurotypical, okay? The problem as we see it is that your parents are fucking up the process that he needs to get a diagnosis. Like, he's said the longest he had a singular therapist is a month. That is not enough time for a proper professional diagnosis."

"You think he's insane?"

"Not insane, you mainstream-brainwashed vegetable. Neurodivergent. We can't diagnose him on our own, we're not professionals! He could have bipolar disorder or schizophrenia or straight-up depression but it's not nothing and we know so because over the past two weeks we've bothered to sit down and know him."

"Stop!"

Jared paused.

"Who is 'we'?"

After another short pause Jared chuckled. "Shit. There goes non-involvement. 'We' are Evan, Alana and I."

"Aren't you the runners of The Connor Project?"

"Yes," Jared said. "We've been meeting with Connor in the hospital nearly every time Evan visits."

Zoe ran a hand over her face and sat down on her bed. "Oh my god."

"If it makes you feel better, Alana didn't tell you because we told her not to."

Zoe looked up through her hair with a heated look that would probably burn Jared if he cared enough. "You made her turn against me?"

Jared let out a breathy laugh. "What would have been the first thing you did?"

"I don't _know_ ," she said, like it was a challenge.

" _Exactly_ , darling, we didn't either, so we had to play it safe."

"Don't call me 'darling'!"

Jared actually laughed. "What, do you think I'm flirting with you?"

Zoe settled on a glare and Jared's eyes widened.

"Holy shit no. I'm gay as fuck, keep your gross torso-based fat sacks away from me, no thank you."

After that, Zoe relaxed a fraction.

"No I was using it in a condescendingly informal way, thank you very much."

Her anger returned. "Hey asshole, do you think you can just swoop in and save my brother like all he needed was a little more time, a little more understanding?"

"Maybe I do," Jared said, despite himself.

"And what, we weren't good enough?"

"Maybe you weren't!"

The room froze.

"Shit," Jared sighed. "Didn't mean that, really. More directed 'you' as in your family dynamic, not… you."

"Whatever, I get it."

"No, I don't think you do," Jared said, stepping forward. "Something you might not have picked up on is that Connor is still as pliable as any other hormone ridden teenager in our class. He's still a fucking kid, just like us, not some fourty-year-old junkie who can't get his life together."

Zoe cracked a smile and snorted.

"He's seventeen, man. And I guess Evan's point is that he shouldn't think what your parents forced him to do is what life should have to be."

The room settled again, and Zoe gazed at the floor.

Jared shook his head. "Anyway I have shit to do. Hospitals to visit, websites to code."

He started walking out of the room before Zoe stood up and walked towards him. He turned before she could touch him or his bag. "For all you try to make it seem like you don't, you care an awful lot about what you do and who you do it for."

Jared's eyes widened. Fuck, no, Zoe was supposed to know the least, she was supposed to be stupid and unobservant and not a factor. He cleared his throat. "Skillz gotta be put to use somewhere."

"Careful. If you dropped the asshole act, someone might end up really liking you."

Jared's throat turned dry. He rolled his eyes, flipped her off, and walked out of her house until he could stop halfway down the street and get his heartbeat under control.


	5. jared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning for mention of American controversy, particularly gun control and a brief cameo of healthcare. Because I'm keeping up to date on my politics and I feel rage in my veins.

Often, Evan was still the only one Connor would actually talk to. Jared himself had gained an honorary Evan-status of talkitivity, but their talks consisted of jeers and taunts and occasional bitching about family. Connor had said a few words to Alana, which turned out fine; Alana filled the silence when Connor stopped. Jared tagged along roughly half the time, needing something to do. For whatever reason, they never kicked him out.

"B-but what about countries that get along fine without?"

"That's great for them," Connor said, exasperated, "but guns are like, America 101. Literally one of the first things Americans agreed on when they got started."

"People with guns are dangerous," Evan said. "And-and hurt a lot of people!"

"Most of them are privileged white supremacists," Connor retorted.

Jared sat in the corner of the hospital room, laptop on his thighs and eyes scanning over the electronic screen. He wasn't listening. Their opinions on controversial problems in America was trivial enough to count as boring.

"Jared? Tie breaker?"

Jared lazily flicked his gaze up over the rim of his glasses.

Connor was glaring, but not in the way that he did when he was actually mad. More in the way he did when he wanted to seem pissed off. Jared wondered when he'd picked up on the acute behaviors of Connor Murphy. Evan was looking between the other two, switching between an expectant look at Jared and a conflicted gaze at Connor.

"Maybe the country should figure out how to keep people alive before letting anyone with money get murder weapons," Jared said coolly.

"Ha!" Evan exclaimed, crossing his arms. "Guns are bad!"

"How am I supposed to blow my brains out now?"

" _Connor_!" Evan shrieked.

"Chill, just fatalist humor, dude. Well if you're elected president tomorrow I'll gladly vote for taking rights to guns away. Jared, fuck you," Connor said for good measure.

Jared rolled his eyes. "Likewise, babe."

"…Babe?" Evan inquired softly, probably meant only for Connor to hear but Hansen wasn't as smooth as he might think.

"Bants, my man," Jared explained with a wave of a hand, partially so he didn't have to listen to whatever 'comedic' explanation of hatefucking Connor would have sarcastically delivered.

There was a knock on the door.

Jared froze. He definitely wasn't supposed to be here.

"Mister Murphy, I've come to check on your neck," the nurse said. The hospital door slid open and the nurse stepped into the room. His back was facing Jared, but he was standing firmly in front of the only exit in the room. The door was placed between where Jared sat in one corner and the hospital bed, so a slipy escape was nigh impossible.

Finally he came to his senses and silently closed his laptop and stood, motioning for either of the others to say something.

"Um," Evan squeaked, "the visiting hours are right now?"

"Yes, but we need to check on those bruises daily. May I ask your relation to the patient?"

"No," Connor asserted in a low voice. "You may not."

Jared, with careful footsteps, slipped into the bathroom just beside the chair and ducked behind the wall, next to the open doorway. His heart beat harshly in his chest, echoing through his ears.

"Are you a relative or close friend?"

"He has permission to be with me," Connor said louder.

"I-In any case," Evan's voice stuttered, "do I have to leave or?"

"That would be up to Mister Murphy, I suppose," said the nurse.

"No, stay. As long as this doesn't take long," Connor said.

The door to the room closed, and the nurse must have turned around and seen Jared's backpack and laptop still glowing on the seat. "Is someone else visiting?"

"No, that's mine," Evan said a tad too fast. "I uh, know, I probably shouldn't be bringing schoolwork to Connor right now but uh, there was a video. For, uh—"

"My favorite class," Connor filled in. "They showed a film today and Evan wanted to be able to catch me up."

"Sounds like a wonderful idea," the nurse said. "Mister Murphy, have you considered what you will do when you are discharged?"

"Yes."

"Do you think you will attend any treatments or survivor groups?"

"I think I have to."

There was a tense pause. "Your parents are here and wish to come in. I was told to give you warning in case you needed time to prepare."

Jared would have laughed if he were not terrified. He _knew_  Connor's parents thought he and Evan were gay lovers.

"Oh," Evan's voice answered in a shaky tone. "O-okay."

"You look nearly healed, Mister Murphy. You should be discharged in a day or two. I'll leave you in peace, your parents should be here shortly."

The door clicked shut and Jared numbly stepped out of the bathroom. "Jesus _Christ_."

Evan looked on the verge of losing it, and even Connor looked nervous.

"I can't leave now, your mom would recognize me if she saw me on the way out," Jared said mostly to Connor. He moved quickly and swept up his laptop and backpack. "I'm going to have to hide in the closet. You need to do whatever you have to to get them out and not look too suspicious. No time limit or anything but dark closets are like, _not_ the best."

"How?!" Evan asked in a whisper-yell.

"Play it cool," Jared answered as he placed his things on the floor of the closet, which was just to the side of the bed. He stepped into the small space with a deep breath. "You'll be fine."

He slid the door shut, and it only felt slightly like closing a coffin.

Connor spoke first to fill the silence. "It'll be alright Evan, just breathe, I can talk if—"

"Nono, they want to— uh, well, they- they won't expect you to start talking. Um. Now, or- I- I guess."

"Just breathe though, Evan, I'm here, Jare's here."

In the darkness of the closet, Jared allowed himself a surprised grin.

The sound of the door clicking open wiped it from his face.

"Hello? We decided to come by," Cynthia's voice announced. "I'm sorry if we were interrupting anything."

Evan jumped at the chance. "Nono- we just. Um. Like, were talking bout this film from a class. Connor, it was um—"

"Biology," Connor grumbled quietly.

A hush fell, and then a bumping noise.

"It- it's awful nice to bring fl-flowers, Mrs. Murphy," Evan said.

Jared silently thanked Evan.

"Well we thought it would be a good send off! The doctors say you'll be out in a few days, huh Connor?" Mrs. Murphy said in a cheerier tone.

Connor hummed a bit, not enough to be a proper response.

"We thought we'd discuss what happens after," a deeper voice interjected. Jared assumed it must be Larry Murphy, who he'd never met.

"Well uh—" Evan paused.

Jared mentally cursed. Half the plan pivoted on this persuasion.

"Back to school, obviously," Cynthia said. "So that you can see all those people who were so worried about you again! Maybe take a few days off between though, if you need, dear."

"I'm not so sure how that will go," Mr. Murphy chided softly. "Plenty of kids may want to help, but Connor mostly has only Ev—"

"Connor has other friends too!" Evan interrupted.

Jared wanted to smash his head against the wall.  _Damn it, Evan._

Cynthia was the first to speak. "What do you mean, honey?"

"I-I mean. I mean—!"

"Jared," Connor said.

"Right! " Evan agreed, "Jared— Jared Kleinman is like my be— my _friend_ , and uh. It's kind of a thing where my friends, are- are willing to be his friends too! And Alana too, right?"

Connor must have nodded.

"Alana Beck, you met her. And she's— is she Zoe's friend too? I think so, uh, not sure, but. Still. There's t-that stuff."

"That's so wonderful!" Cynthia squealed. "Connor, baby, I'm so glad you won't be alone if you don't want to be!"

"Still, we need to address a more permanent solution," Larry said. "We need to talk about—"

"Larry," Cynthia said. "We said not now."

"We need to talk to him about professional correction!"

Something in the tone of that voice set Jared's blood on fire, and he wanted very much to make sure that man had no legal control over Connor again.

"Um, excuse me?" Evan asked quietly. "I was talking to Connor and— um geez. Could I tell you something?"

Cynthia cooed. "You could tell us anything, dear."

"I have, uh. Medically diagnosed anxiety, and sometimes I have to take pills for it. But-but my therapist- I never would have gotten that help if I hadn't been able to sit down and _talk_  about it. And it took, like, maybe, maybe a month, but I was told that I could be helped. And uh, I told Connor about that, and uh, Con?"

There was only a moment of silence. "I'd like to see Evan's therapist."

Cynthia audibly gasped.

Evan jumped in again, "B-but the thing is, we. We want Connot to be, like. Able to talk through all the symptoms and jargon and st-stuff like that. So maybe, uh. If you could give them some time? To make sure that they can get it right?"

"I really want this," Connor said.

For once, the darkness helped. Jared didn't have to watch facial features to figure out what Connor's next move was, he could just hear. He _knew_  what Connor's voice sounded like when he was saying something just to get by. Instead, Connor sounded  _genuine._

Apparently it worked, and the Murphy parents agreed to take the number of the therapist.

Jared didn't mind being trapped in a closet for another half an hour when Evan got sent home and Cynthia stuck around, because when she left, he came out and flopped in bed next to Connor.

"Holy shit, good thing you don't have like, fear of the dark or claustrophobia."

"I'm better than some people at handling my emotions," Jared said before he realized that he said it. "Shit- I didn't mean—"

"Hey, it's cool," Connor said, straightening Jared's glasses with one hand. "Sorry you had to fuckin' sit in there."

"Yeah," Jared said, because it did suck, but there was nothing to forgive anyway.

"Evan made it happen."

"Yeah."

"I can't believe I _actually_ want therapy."

Jared said nothing for a moment, because he was sitting in an almost-adult-man's bed at nine at night and they were discussing how to seek help. "Hey. Do it so you can say fuck you to your dad."

"Good point. Were you scared it wouldn't pan out?"

"I was fine," Jared said, decisively ignoring the real question.

It seemed that was enough of an answer for Connor. "You don't need to do everything. We can deal with the execution, you know."

"Apparently I might have to join the front lines soon," Jared said. "You'll have to deal with more of me in public."

"Not the shittiest thing I've had to deal with."

A dual meaning, but at the heart, it had good intentions.

Jared dragged his bag from the closet and stole a flower from Connor's new flower bouquet. "Anyone asks, you _gave_ this to me."

Connor chuckled. "Petty thievery. What an asshole. My true knight in shining armor takes some artistic liberties apparently."

Before he could think too hard, Jared gave a dopey grin and tucked the flower into his shirt pocket. "We good?"

"I hope so."

He left, because he would have done something stupid, and he had to hold out on that as long as he could. _Not today, gay feelings_ , Jared thought to himself.  _Not tonight._

When Jared drove home alone, he didn't mind, because he was already planning how to work out ways to help Connor and Evan evade all sets of parents for sleepovers.

Not tonight. But maybe he would set himself up to fail with that feeble attempt very soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you were expecting them to hook up? No, not yet. I'm planning on making a series though. Be ready for that long haul build up into the ultimate ship.


End file.
